The Best of Times, the Worst of Times
by M.G. Lavallee
Summary: Remus Lupin and Olivia Graves are granted a moment of youthful romance before they must forge adult lives for themselves outside the protective walls of Hogwarts. Will they be able to hold on to that moment, or will fear and uncertainty tear them apart?
1. Chapter 1

The library gave the appearance of being quite deserted, save a small group of older students gathered around a single table. Books, parchment, study charts and quills were spread out in front of them, but more or less forgotten. Their heads were drawn close together as they conducted an urgent conversation in low voices. Every so often, one would glance over their shoulder, as if to ensure that there was nobody nearby.

One tall, strong-jawed young man with broad shoulders but rather uncertain eyes seemed to be leading the discussion. His features were stretched taut with meaning, and his large hands were clenched into fists of unwavering resolve. "All I'm saying," he went on in a slow, deliberate whisper, "is that I know for a fact that he keeps a snake for a pet."

There was a lame silence while his listeners met each others' eyes in turn, then looked back at him, as if awaited further explanation.

"Well, what does that tell you, then?" He leaned even farther forward, eyes widening and lips barely moving.

A girl sitting at the end of the table, who had continued flipping through her book and jotting down notes while these speculations progressed, and, furthermore, remained unconcernedly reclined in her chair, looked up. The movement of her head caught the young man's eye. She smiled archly. "Well, I'm sure we don't know, Artum… My wholly unsubstantiated conclusion would be that he dislikes rats."

Artum looked, for a moment, completely nonplussed, but his expression quickly changed to one of patronizing superiority. "Olivia, I expected more from you… Everyone knows that Voldemort himself can change into a snake at will. He does it whenever he wants to slink around incognito… Anyone who would want one of those things around has got something suspicious about them, no two ways about it." Whenever Artum seemed to feel he had made a particularly inarguable point, he emphasized it with a violent jabbing motion of his thumb, which stuck out, rigid and accusing, over his balled fist.

Olivia, who had followed the thumb's progress with every appearance of rapt attention, lowered her quill and addressed it. "Am I mistaken, or are you quite serious?"

"I'm dead serious."

"Oh, dear," she laughed. "Oh, honestly! I'm all for due diligence, you know, but must we lead the Inquisition? Really, Artum, I think you're taking things a bit far."

Olivia's dismissive remarks had a calming effect on the other members of the group. Their features slackened and a few of them chuckled nervously.

Artum jaw swelled, and when he next spoke, he seemed to have forgotten that their conversation was supposed to be quite private, and his voice rose passionately. "You might think so, Olivia, but these are dark and dangerous times. For your own sake, I wish you'd take things a bit more seriously!"

The rest were utterly silent. Some looked pointedly away, some stared unabashedly. All fidgeted awkwardly in their seats. Olivia remained composed. She put down her quill and shut her book as if she had merely decided that she'd had quite enough studying for one afternoon. As she returned both to her bag, she looked sternly upon Artum. "I take very many things very seriously, witch hunts being chief among them. And, now, if you don't mind, I'll excuse myself. I find that the library has suddenly grown very… uninformative."

As the door shut creakily behind Olivia, a thin young man with an evasive look about him emerged from between two nearby shelves, bearing a large dusty volume to the desk of Madame Pince, the vulture-like librarian, who had been breathing very fiercly through her aquiline nose throughout Artum and Olivia's argument. She entered the boy's book into the log, all the while glaring at him as if he, too, had been partly responsible for the recent disruption. On his way out, the boy cast a curious look at the group, but said nothing.

"Wasn't that Remus Lupin, James Potter's friend?" An anxious looking girl with long blonde hair asked the boy sitting next to her.

"Yeah, sure was… I wonder how much he heard. Do you think he was listening?"

"Don't worry about him. James and his group are fine," Artum said with considerable authority. "Now, if he'd been a Slytherin… And that's just I mean, just what Olivia doesn't get. You never know who's sneaking around, spying on you these days. Why, just today, in Arithmancy, I was…"

Olivia had thought of returning to her room in the east tower, but changed her mind halfway, and descended the stairs to the main floor, thinking she might benefit from a solitary walk across the grounds. If she had to face anyone right now, she thought, in the state she was in, she'd probably do her best to start a screaming match over what was served at lunch. So it was with considerable foreboding that she heard a second pair of footsteps echoing down the marble steps. _If that's Artum come to have the last word, and I wouldn't be a bit surprised…_she thought. _Oh! I'll hex his tongue right out of that big, perpetually flapping jaw on sheer principle!_

Stopping at the foot of the stairs and squaring her shoulders (but not going quite so far as to reach for her wand, yet), Olivia took a deep breath and called, "You know, much of wit is in the timing!" But when she spun around, she was met not with a preemptively struck and gloriously defeated Artum, his belated rebuttal lying in pieces on the floor, having come crashing down around him, but a quite stunned looking somebody-else-entirely.

It was Remus Lupin, a Gryffindor in her year, whom she may or may not have spoken to once or twice outside of class in the six-odd years they had attended Hogwarts together.

He smiled and continued down the stairs. "I've always felt that way, too. For instance, if you had turned around before starting in screaming…"

Olivia smiled back. "Then I would have robbed myself of the opportunity to voice what would have been, you must admit, had it reached the ears of its intended target, a terribly cutting remark."

Remus nodded. "I think it would have been, yes. For a moment, before I realized that I'd never argued with you before in my life, I did feel rather routed."

"I wish it had been you I'd argued with earlier," Olivia sighed.

Remus frowned. "Why's that?"

"I have a suspicion you would have been a much worthier opponent than the git I thought you were… when I yelled at you, I mean." She grinned. "So, what do you do?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "Follow people around, waiting to catch them in an awkward moment, so you can have a good laugh?"

"No, actually. I was just heading towards the kitchens and an early dinner. You?"

"Nowhere in particular."

"Oh?" Remus said in a conversational sort of way, as though he had visited Nowhere In Particular himself last summer, had an excellent time, and wondered if Olivia had heard about the lovely beaches.

An odd thing happened, then. You've probably experienced something like it. Olivia and Remus had made the mistake of letting their conversation transition from an easy back-and-forth of amusing witticisms to something, oddly, more intimate for its very mundaneness, and, more or less at the same time, they both realized that they really had nothing whatsoever to do with one another.

"Well…" The word rolled heavily off Olivia's tongue. "Thank you for the pleasant exchange. It was quite decent of you not to simply laugh disdainfully and continue on your way, but, instead, afford me an opportunity to redeem myself. My dignity is forever beholden to you."

Remus inclined his head graciously.

"Good bye, then."

"Good bye."

Olivia glanced back over her shoulder as she headed back up the stairs. Remus's back was disappearing down the dark stairwell that led to the basement. She wondered why he couldn't wait until the rest of the school sat down for their evening meal, and felt a bit sorry that she wouldn't see him there. That's a silly way to feel, she told herself quickly, but smiled all the way up to Ravenclaw tower.

When she reached the common room, she found that Artum and the rest had beaten her there. She didn't pause, walking straight past them, and mounted the stairs to her dormitory. She was joined, moments later, by the anxious-looking girl with long, blonde hair. (You might think it funny, to call the girl "anxious-looking" still, when the air of tension surrounding their discussion in the library had passed, but, this unfortunate young person, you see, was of a persistently nervous disposition.)

"Olivia…"

"What is it, Marlene?" Olivia found that her pleasant demeanor was quickly fading upon seeing Artum again, and spoke harshly to her friend.

"I… oh, please don't be angry with me, Olivia!" Marlene wailed, throwing herself onto Olivia's bed. "You know I don't take Artum any more seriously than you do, but I hate all this arguing and yelling and cold-shouldering."

Marlene looked so despondent that Olivia was immediately very sorry for what she had said. She took the other girl's hand. "I didn't mean to snap at you, dear. I'm sorry. I guess I just let that big, puffed-up git get to me."

Marlene smiled. "You should have seen his face when you just got up and walked out like that," she whispered, as though Artum might be pressed against the floor just outside, listening at the crack at the bottom of the door. "He looked stupefied, except his lips kept moving-"

Olivia laughed.

"Until Remus Lupin, you know, that Gryffindor boy, came out from behind a shelf-"

"What?" Olivia suddenly looked stern.

"Well, he – he…" Marlene stammered. "He came out from behind a shelf after you left, and when he did, Artum sort of jumped in his chair, until he realized who it was, and then he said, 'Oh, he's alright,' like someone had asked for his opinion… It was sort of funny, really… What's wrong?"

Olivia shook her head to indicate nothing at all, then, to the added confusion of her friend, smiled a small, secret sort of smile. "He is alright, isn't he, Remus Lupin, I mean?"

Marlene frowned and seemed to consider the question in earnest. "Well, I don't know… We only ever see him in Potions and Charms. I don't think much of his friends," she concluded. "They're always causing trouble, and I guess they think it's awfully funny… Remember, last year, when they transfigured Severus Snape's frog liver into raw beef, and Snape's Euphoria Elixir seized up, then suddenly boiled over, and splattered everyone nearby?"

Olivia nodded. "Yes. That wasn't very funny, was it?"

Marlene shook her head. "No, not at all… It was funny, though, when Lily Evans charmed some of the elixir to fly at Potter. Now, do you want to finish that Ancient Runes translation? Because we never did get to work in the library, and these hieroglyphics are perfectly dreadful! Oh, I'll never pass my N.E.W.T.!"

Olivia gazed dumbly at Marlene for a moment as if she couldn't understand her. "Oh, homework… The hieroglyphics are no harder than the Celtic alphabet. Really, I think they're sort of fun." Olivia took a large roll of parchment and a thick textbook from her bag. "Here, I've already begun…"

Through out dinner, Olivia kept glancing over at Gryffindor table, just in case Remus did turn up. _After all_, she reasoned_, it would be rude not to smile at him, after our talk in the hall… That is, if he notices me and smiles himself. And if he doesn't notice me, or if he doesn't turn up at all, it doesn't matter, really. How could it matter? It couldn't! _

But however unimportant Remus's presence at dinner was to Olivia, the fact remained that she was distinctly disappointed when it became clear that he wasn't going to come. And neither, apparently, were James Potter, Sirius Black, or Peter Pettigrew, his three Gryffindor friends.

Olivia puzzled over the matter as she prepared for bed that night. She sat on the windowsill and brushed her hair, staring absentmindedly at the reflection of the full moon on the smooth black surface of the lake and wondered, occasionally reminding herself that whatever the answer was, it couldn't possibly be very interesting, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Olivia spent a greater amount of time than usual preparing for class. She was twisting her long red hair into a complicated sort of chignon that she usually reserved for holidays and Hogsmeade weekends, "because a girl has to remind herself that she can look nice, sometimes, even if there's nobody for whom to look nice," she told her roommates from in front of the bathroom mirror.

"That's all very lovely and philosophical, but could I brush my teeth, please?" Irving Bellows asked, eyebrows raised, from where she stood leaning against the doorframe.

Irving was a very beautiful young woman, graced with an elegance of features and lines, which had, nevertheless, not inhibited the growth of her personality, but rather, bestowed her with a rare confidence and sense of entitlement. Olivia liked, and even respected, Irving for her composure and nonchalance, and probably would not have relinquished her position for anyone else.

"And no girl dresses up for herself," Irving added in an undertone, closing the bathroom door behind her. She grinned as she squeezed toothpaste onto her brush.

"You can't bully me, Irving," Olivia said, putting in the final pin. "I'm too happy this morning. Try Artum Briggs. He's always good for a laugh."

Irving rolled her eyes. "I heard you rather took it out of him in the library, yesterday."

Olivia shrugged.

"Well, you'll have to watch out for yourself, now. I'll bet you ten-to-one that five minutes after you left, he was telling everyone that you've been seen fraternizing with werewolves and vampires, and other such Dark creatures."

"The number of people Artum supposes to be under the sway of Voldemort," Olivia sneered, "grows in negative correlation with the number of people who take him seriously."

Irving chuckled in agreement, and the two girls finished their morning toilets in amicable silence. They liked each other because they could respect one another, and never had to be simpering or overly-friendly in their acquaintance. They could point out each other's faults and airs as easily as they could agree upon the silliness of most of their peers. Their friendship was easy and undemanding because neither one asked anything of the other, except to be candid and sensible.

"If I had known that you'd taken a Befuddlement Draught with your eggs this morning, I would have partnered with Katie Abbot," Irving scoffed in Charms that afternoon, as they practiced Unplottable charms on apples. There was a map of the classroom laid out on each of their desks, upon which Flitwick had clearly marked the location of each fruit. The number of little dot's labeled "apple" had greatly diminished since the start of class, but the ink representation of Olivia's apple remained stubbornly visible on the map.

"_Absconditus!" _Olivia screamed in her head. This was such a simple charm. She had practiced it last summer on a Muggle clothing shop in London where a salesgirl had been rude to her, and, sure enough, no one else had entered it all afternoon, greatly diminishing, Olivia remembered with relish, that little snot's commission.

"But perhaps your mind is just… preoccupied?" Irving suggested, letting her eyes rest on Olivia's chignon for a fraction of a second.

Olivia shot Irving a withering look. _"Absconditus!"_ She pointed her wand at the apple again before glancing hopefully at the map. It was as darkly and boldly marked as ever. Glancing around the classroom, she saw that most of her peers were having little trouble Unplotting their fruit… except for Katie Abbot. She, at least, had resorted to whispering the charm under her breath in hopes of making it more powerful.

Peter Pettigrew wasn't having much success, either. He had given up entirely, by the looks of it, and was now simply watching James Potter and Sirius Black Unplot their umpteenth apples with a sour look on his face, like a child who has been left out of a neighborhood game.

And Remus Lupin, as Olivia had remarked upon first entering class, wasn't there. Why wasn't he there?

Lily Evans had come over to their desk now. She was speaking kindly to Pettigrew, but he only grew sulkier, and now looked quite embarrassed. Black ruffled his hair condescendingly, and Potter snatched up Pettigrew's apple. "Ah, don't worry about it, Wormtail, we'll make it disappear one way or another!" He took a large bite out if it.

Black laughed. Pettigrew scowled. Lily Evans looked reproachful.

"So that's what it is?" Irving whispered.

"What?" Olivia hissed back. "What are you talking about?"

"One of those Gryffindor boys? It couldn't be Pettigrew…" Irving shuddered. "What a bore. But Black and Potter are handsome enough…"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, but-"

"I never would have guessed it. And for shame, Olivia... Plenty of girls have been swooning over those two for seven years, but I thought you had more individual tastes in-"

"You don't know the first thing about my tastes, Irving," Olivia snapped, and this was, after all, the truth.

Irving laughed. "Well, all right, but I don't think floundering over your class work is a very effective way of impressing potential beau, anyway."

"I won't take any romantic advice from you, Irving, though I thank you all the same." Olivia looked stonily upon her friend. "Your style in that arena lacks the subtlety I find becomes a lady."

Irving looked affronted for a moment, and opened her mouth as if to retort, then broke into a laugh. "I knew there was a reason I didn't partner with Katie Abbot. She could never hold up under fire like you."

Olivia smiled appreciatively.

"And on that note," Irving continued more seriously, "please don't become hopelessly dewy-eyed and sentimental, whomever it may be that you're doing your hair and becoming all scatter-brained for. I can't stand the company of silly girls."

As they returned their maps and apples to Flitwick's desk at the end of class, Olivia spared one more glance at the Gryffindors. Sirius Black spotted her, but before Olivia could pretend that she was merely observing the weather through the window over his shoulder, he grinned and winked roguishly at her. Completely bewildered, and not a little scandalized, Olivia turned to leave. Before the door closed behind her, she heard Potter laugh loudly. _Never mind the whole thing,_ she thought savagely. _If Remus comes as a package deal with _those _two, I'd rather not have him at all!_

True to her resolution, Olivia did not look once at the Gryffindor table that evening during dinner. Flitwick had told her to keep her map at the end of the Charms with a disappointed and almost pained look on his leathery old face. This had had quite an affect on Olivia, and had, if anything, cooled her towards Remus Lupin "and the whole lot of those puffed-up Gryffindor punks" even more.

She now had the map hidden on her lap underneath the table, having found that it was charmed to represent whatever room it was within, and all nearby fruit. She was attempting to Unplot the plum pudding on the teacher's table. "Ha!" she cried, as it disappeared from the map.

Irving turned a puzzled expression upon her.

"How's that for an Unplottable Charm?" Olivia boasted, holding the map up for her friend to see.

"Is that what you've been doing this whole while?" Irving asked, less impressed than Olivia would have liked, but no less than she could have honestly expected. "Well, good job. Now maybe you can eat."

Resisting the urge to run up to the teacher's table and show Flitwick that she'd Muggle-proofed his dessert, Olivia rolled up the map and stored it inside her robes, along with her wand.

As she looked up to peruse the evening's selections, she saw someone enter the Great Hall out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over, she was elated to recognize Remus Lupin. Elated for a fleeting moment, then quickly and decidedly indifferent. Nevertheless, she kept him in her peripheral vision as he walked to the Gryffindor table and sat down with his friends.

She was absolutely determined not to so much as turn her head in their general direction, but the loud masculine laughter that accompanied his arrival at the table weakened her resolve. _I'll just pass my eyes over them as I look towards… towards the ceiling, _she reasoned. And doing so, she observed that Potter and Black were jostling Remus. Pettigrew seemed to be enjoying watching them bully someone else for a change.

Finding her will more malleable than she had previously supposed, Olivia kept her gaze on the boys longer than she had intended. Then, horrifyingly, all four of them looked directly at her. Though Remus looked confused and uncomfortable, Black, for the second time that day, winked. _I could hex his eyes shut, _Olivia raged before settling her features into the coolest possible expression and returning to her tart with every air of a person who couldn't be less concerned with such juvenile games. The laughter, Olivia observed with some comfort, died down quickly after she had looked away.

"Shall we go back to the dormitories, now?" Olivia asked Irving in an airy, unnatural sort of way.

"You've hardly eaten a thing..."

"I've had quite enough."

Irving raised her eyebrows, but stood up. As they left the Hall, Irving leaned in and whispered, "Why does that Black boy keep winking at you? In Charms, and now at dinner?"

"Perhaps he has a nervous tic. I'm sure I don't know, having never spoken to him before in my life," Olivia answered forcefully.

Irving began to say something in reply, but before she could finish, loud conversation erupted behind them, and turning, she saw Black himself, along with Potter, Lily Evans, that Pettigrew boy, and Remus Lupin, which was odd, as she didn't remember seeing him in Charms today.

"Hello, Miss Bellows," Black called to her. "You look lovely this evening."

Olivia turned around to see who had spoken, and became stony-faced upon recognizing Black.

"And you, too, Miss Graves," he continued, grinning. "I don't know when I've ever seen two more striking examples of feminine beauty."

Olivia glanced fleetingly at Remus. She was pleased to see that he did not look amused. She turned completely around and looked Black unabashedly in the eye for the first time that day. She had had quite enough of his condescension. "You're powers of observation, Mr. Black, are much greater than your charms. Good night." And, turning grandly on her heel, she continued up the marble staircase.


	3. Chapter 3

_I feel the need to offer a note hear in way of explanation for something you have, hopefully, been critical enough to have noticed and scoffed at: My characters call Voldemort by name. This is a deliberate decision on my part, and does not spring out of flagrant ignorance of canon or a simple penchant for brevity._

_I believe that the habit of calling Voldemort by such euphemisms as "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" and "You-Know-Who" cropped up after his downfall, out of fear and uncertainty, perhaps a superstitious belief that to say his name would be to resurrect him. This theory, which may be entirely wrong, but which, for the time being, I am very partial to is supported (intentionally or unintentionally, I do not know) by the essay "Generations in the Wizarding World" by Ebony (a.k.a. Angie J.), to whom I have no affiliation, and whose works can be found on the much heralded website, (Because, really, when you think about it, there must be some cultural superstition_ _for this nonsense. After all, no one ever went around calling Hitler or Stalin "You-Know-Who" during their reigns of terror or afterwards, did they? And, unless I'm much mistaken, they killed many more people.)_

_-M.G. Lavallee_

* * *

The first blissful thought to occur in Olivia's mind when she woke up the next morning was, "Oh, Saturday…"

This was, coincidentally, the first thought Olivia always had upon waking up, provided it was a Saturday. And she always knew when it was a Saturday because there were no alarms on Saturdays. Sundays, yes, in order to make the alarm of Monday less painful and jarring and the no-alarm of Saturday more enjoyable. Her roommates did not share her philosophy on Sunday alarms, but this did not bother Olivia.

Olivia had a routine for Saturdays, a routine that she followed with an enthusiasm and rigor bordering on the religious. The first step of this routine was, of course, to wake up late, usually around nine o'clock. Then came staying in bed, and in her pajamas for as long as possible, which was usually accomplished by reading for and hour-or-so or writing to family. After that, she would dress in a slow and leisurely manner, choosing her clothes carefully and largely on the basis of comfort. Then, off to breakfast (or, as the more industrious would have it, lunch) in the Great Hall. Here, she would receive the early edition of the Sunday Prophet from her owl, Wentworth, who received it from the delivery owl in the morning, and didn't think much of the mid-day schedule his mistress kept.

And it was at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall that Olivia sat on this particular Saturday, tying a letter to Wentworth's leg while he drank deeply from her pumpkin juice. "That's to Mum and Dad, Wentworth. I know it's late for you, so don't bother until nighttime if you don't think you can manage."

Wentworth gave her a scandalized look with his large, black eyes.

"Well, have a bit of sausage and be off, then," she told him. He plucked up a link and flew through one of the high, open windows.

Olivia unfolded the Prophet and scanned the front page… deaths, disappearances, arrests. It seemed that no matter how many arrests the Ministry made, there were always twice as many Death Eaters willing to fill in the ranks of those Voldemort had lost. There had been a vampire attack in Northumbria. Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was lobbying for the immediate closure of all shops located within Knockturn Alley.

The Hall was beginning to fill in around her as the hour drew closer to midday. That was Olivia's signal to depart and finish her paper in the relative calm of her dormitory. She folded it up, making a mental note that the Knockturn Alley story continued on page nine.

As she mounted the marble staircase someone called out her name in the Entrance Hall below. She recognized the voice and turned around halfway up the first flight. "Mr. Lupin, good morning."

"Good morning." He seemed unsure of himself and did not approach her immediately, but remained standing at the foot of the stairs, hands thrust into the pockets of his robes. "Anything cheerful in the news, today?"

"I suppose that depends on your brand of cheerful," Olivia replied stiffly.

Remus ascended a few steps and leaned against the banister. "I, er, wanted to apologize, about last night, I mean… and Sirius."

"Ah," Olivia smiled, but her tone remained cool and formal. "Your delightful friend. There's no need, really."

"Well… Accept my apology, anyway. He can be a bit of a git, I know." Remus ascended a couple more steps.

"I assure you, I'm quite reconciled to his behavior. Only, I do find it odd when somebody I haven't exchanged so much as a passing 'hello' with for seven years suddenly begins winking and catcalling at me."

Remus shifted his weight uncomfortably and watched a group of younger students pass down the stairs. "I suppose he thinks it's funny. I told him to cut it out."

"My, how noble of you."

Remus furrowed his brow and said nothing.

Olivia immediately regretted saying it. How cold and accusing did she really need to be to this poor boy in order to feel above Black's rudeness? Remus must think her terribly bitter and vindictive.

"I'm sorry," Olivia said. "That was a foul thing to say… Thank you. Really, thank you."

Remus smiled feebly. "S'nothing," he mumbled.

Olivia thought desperately of something kind and thoughtful to say, but the only things that occurred to her for what seemed like a very long while had to do with the elegant, and quite distracting, way his body curved as he leaned against the banister, or how striking she found the structure of his cheekbones, or how sorely she wished he would look at her instead of everywhere else. And while all these things were all perfectly true and valid, and rather interesting besides, she didn't think they would quite do. "Are you feeling better?" she finally mustered, somewhat lamely.

"Hm?" Remus looked inquiringly at her.

"You weren't in class yesterday."

"Oh," Remus nodded. "Yeah, I, er, just got a… bad bite from the Venomous Tentacula in Herbology that morning. It's fine now." After a moment's silence, he added, "It's a, er, Hogsmeade weekend coming up, you know."

Olivia nodded. A moment later, she realized she was holding her breath and exhaled loudly with a sound somewhere in between a sigh and a laugh that sounded really, terribly ridiculous. Fortunately, Remus didn't seem to have noticed. He was preoccupied with a bit of floor a few inches to the left of her shoes.

When he next spoke, it was that bit of floor which he addressed. "I thought, maybe, if you didn't have plans… Would you like to go with me?"

"Yes." Remus had spoken so slowly that Olivia had had to be careful not to answer before he had finished.

"Oh," Remus laughed a little. "All right, then. I'll, er… I'll see you then. Or… before, actually, in class, but…"

"Yeah," Olivia nodded, furrowing her brow and frowning thoughtfully as if, for all the world, he had just made an awfully profound observation.

For the first afternoon in all the Saturdays she had spent at Hogwarts, Olivia found it difficult to uphold her routine. Usually, she would have finished the paper in bed, then gone out onto the grounds for a walk around the lake before heading to the library to complete any homework left over from the previous week.

All Olivia wanted to do once she reached the common room, however, was sit at the window and gaze vaguely in the direction of the village. The paper lay completely forgotten on a table by the fire and the snow around the lake remained smooth and undisturbed. It was in this idle manner that Marlene and Irving found Olivia when they returned from lunch. They were slightly jarred by this unusual turn of events.

Marlene approached cautiously. "Olivia… Are you all right?"

Olivia turned, grinning, to look dimly at her friend. "I'm… I'm wonderful, Marlene. Aren't you?"

"Well, yes, I suppose," Marlene replied cautiously, glancing doubtfully at Irving, whose expression was stony.

"Why aren't you out walking around the lake?" Irving demanded. "We went to look for you there."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Did you, really? That was terribly thoughtful. I suppose I just didn't feel like it, today," Olivia sighed.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Irving snapped. "You feel like a stroll around the lake every Saturday! You are a disgusting creature of habit, but, lately, you've become completely unreliable… Hogging the bathroom to do your hair on a wholly insignificant Friday, sodding about in Charms, and sitting gazing out the window like you've been stupefied or something!"

Marlene looked awkwardly around the common room, as if searching for some excuse to leave. "I, er, have to send a letter to Jonathon, you know… I haven't written anything in ages. He'll think I don't care, anymore," she laughed nervously and scurried up the stairs to the dormitory.

"Well?" Irving insisted, dropping into a nearby armchair. "What's possessed you?"

"I… It wasn't an insignificant Friday because it was the day after I realized that there's a wonderful boy here at school that I've been too stupid to notice for the past six and a half years." Olivia said this all very fast and smiled guiltily at her lap when she had finished.

Irving scoffed. "I knew it. Is it Sirius Black? I didn't think-"

"No!" Olivia cried, perhaps more forcibly than was really necessary. "No," she repeated in an undertone. "He's… much more polite. And kind. And witty. And handsome."

"More handsome than Sirius Black?" Irving leaned forward in her seat, grinning. "However much of a cad Black is, he certainly sets the bar for gorgeous."

Olivia's lip curled.

"Well, who is it? And why are you so happy about it, anyway? It always struck me that, when you fell in love, you'd be insufferably gloomy and depressed."

Olivia only smiled wider. "How could I be? He asked me to Hogsmeade next weekend."

"Who is it?" Irving looked as though she would slap Olivia if she didn't answer sharpish.

"It's…" Suddenly, Olivia was embarrassed to say. It seemed like a lovely secret that would be spoiled in the telling. But she couldn't be sentimental with Irving. "It's Remus Lupin."

"Lupin? But he's friends with Black, isn't he?"

Olivia shrugged, as if this were an unimportant detail that needn't be paid any real attention.

"A prefect, isn't he? Quiet, but he's always got the answers in class. Oh, yes, that makes much more sense!" Irving laughed. "And, what, is_ that _why Black's been leering? Oh, what a git. Ha! And he's asked you to Hogsmeade, has he? Well, well done. I wish next weekend weren't so far away, though… I can't stand you like this for another seven days. Ah well, I suppose you'll be even worse afterwards." Irving sighed and leaned back in her armchair. "Shall we go up to Marlene, then? She's probably in agonies."


End file.
